


What He Does

by svana_vrika



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alphabet Soup Challenge, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/pseuds/svana_vrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justice was an unknown concept to Teal’c, until he met the Tau’ri- and especially Daniel Jackson</p>
            </blockquote>





	What He Does

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This story is an original work of fan-fiction .Stargate-SG1 and its characters, props and settings are the intellectual property of MGM. I just borrowed them for a few thousand words of entertainment. No copyright infringements intended, and I will make no profit from their use.
> 
> Season 2 spoilers
> 
> Written for the SG-1 Gen Fic Day Alphabet Soup Challenge, letter ‘J’ prompts Jaffa, jail, justice. Work is unbetaed. All mistakes are my own.

The Goa’uld had no word for _justice_. It was not a principle in which they believed- at least, not in the way the Tau’ri did. For the Goa’uld, justice more closely resembled the Tau’ri idea of vengeance, and even that would be a bit of a stretch. The people of Earth- with what Teal’c felt was a small exception given the population of the planet- usually had a valid reason that drove their desire for revenge. Motive wasn’t a necessity for the Goa’uld. It was true that they would torment, torture and kill for any range of slights, perceived or otherwise. But they would simply out of boredom, too. Because, as gods, it was their right. If asked, that would be the reason given as to why they perceived that as justice- before they killed you in the name of it for daring to have asked in the first place. 

Teal’c wasn’t naïve. He knew that the Tau’ri weren’t perfect. That some of them could be as twisted, as arrogant and as unjust as any Goa’uld. He also knew that justice was granted for reasons beyond the ideal at its purest form. He was a prime example. By rights, he should have been locked away as a war criminal at the very least, let alone for any darker designs that crept through the minds of men like Maybourne. But instead, he’d been granted freedom (in a manner of speaking!) and the opportunity to work with the Stargate program and O’neill. To show gratitude and leniency for helping SG-1, was what he’d been told, but Teal’c understood the expectation of full cooperation and disclosure that lay beneath the gracious veneer. That said, Teal’c did know that justice in its truest form existed. In Daniel Jackson. 

Guilt was not a foreign emotion to Teal’c. It didn’t matter that everything he’d done under Ra’s services as soldier and First Prime had been his sworn duty. He could still recall in vivid clarity the faces of the first group of people he’d culled on behalf of Apophis. Teal’c knew that, if he was to permit himself, he would still be able to hear their pleas for mercy, for help, hear the children begging for their mothers. If he was to permit his guilt to lead him deeply enough within, he would recall _every_ face and cry. The only thing he didn’t know with certainty was which would be the one that would sweep him away: the memory of Sha’re, the wife of Daniel Jackson, or the recollection of Daniel Jackson himself- the sheer desperation with which he’d pled to be told that something of the host remained, the way the guilt in his eyes would shift to a near-wild hope whenever they’d get ready to step through the gate… Teal’c’s lips formed a thin line as he drove his pickaxe more firmly into the rock this time. It would be Daniel Jackson who would give him that final nudge, he decided, if he were to let it. Because- though he knew it wasn’t deliberate- Daniel Jackson was a living, breathing reminder to him every day. And the man’s high principle made him feel even more culpability for his previous deeds. Especially when Teal’c considered Daniel Jackson’s unwarranted shows of justice toward him. 

Twice now, Daniel Jackson had taken a direct hand in saving him. The man whose wife he had kidnapped from their home and had stolen away to another planet, whose wife he’d handpicked for Apophis and had let be taken by the goa’uld Amaunet had worked to free him from imprisonment- an ironic twist of fate given the prisoner Sha’re had become at his own hand. Daniel Jackson had defended him when he’d been jailed and put to trial on Cartago; had called him his friend and had earnestly defended him during the Cor-ai. But the instance that had truly moved him had been the first, on Cimmeria, when Daniel Jackson had used the same weapon Teal’c had turned upon Sha’re and her people to free him- by destroying the device that could have removed the goa’uld Amaunet from his wife. 

“Frigging… stupid… Gah!” Teal’c glanced to his left when the growl interrupted the muttering he’d been vaguely aware of behind his thoughts. “Damn it, Daniel,” came more lowly from O’Neill next, the man’s brow furrowing and the angry light briefly fading from the tired, brown eyes. He was still for a moment and then, with a grunt, he drove his shovel into the fragmented rock again. “Bastard. Gonna kill him myself…” O’Neill began his grumbled litany once more as his ire renewed and Teal’c attention returned to his own work. He was glad for the anger that drove his friend. Better that than succumbing to exhaustion and defeat. But he was equally as glad to know that O’Neill held no _true_ malice toward Daniel Jackson. The man was a captive as well, and in a prison much darker and more dangerous than their own.

They hadn’t known about the sarcophagus when Pyrus’ people had come to take Daniel Jackson from the mine after their attempted escape. They had simply been relieved that the guards had listened to their pleas and had called for aid. Time had passed and the work had prevented them from giving into their worry about their teammate, but that which Teal’c had felt before had paled in comparison to his concern when Daniel Jackson had finally returned and had spoken of the device. Daniel Jackson had been different even after that short amount of use, the logic and justice that was the core of the man already having been skewed by the goa’uld technology. And the next time Daniel Jackson had come to them- Teal’c uttered a curse of his own as he drove his pick-axe in hard enough to sever the handle from the iron. He wished that his friend would have died in that accident now. For, by now, Teal’c figured that, for all intents and purposes, the true Daniel Jackson had. 

Teal’c hadn’t been aware that the Tok’ra didn’t use the sarcophagus as the goa’uld did. Captain Carter’s revelation was one to him as well, but he didn’t know that it would do any good to stop Daniel Jackson from using it further. Though relieved by O’neill’s news when he returned from speaking to Daniel Jackson the following morning, he knew the younger man would not be returning with them. His shell, perhaps, but the essence of Daniel Jackson was gone- and the way he kissed the woman Shyla goodbye at the gate served to confirm his belief. The Daniel Jackson he knew loved his wife Sha’re and would have given anything for her. And he cast a loathsome look at the woman Shyla before he stepped through the stargate. He had no doubt that she had manipulated the situation, keeping Daniel Jackson under her ‘care’ just long enough to where she knew he wouldn’t be able to leave for long. 

The next few days proved to be a strain on all of them. Teal’c had never known anyone to stop using the sarcophagus. The possibility- let alone the ramifications of doing so- had never crossed his mind, and the way that Daniel Jackson would mindlessly rant or writhe and cry out in pain in between small bouts of rest or lucidity as he stood vigil brought to mind the tales of Jaffa who had been put through the rite of M'al Sharran. The parallels were not lost on Teal’c. He suspected Daniel Jackson was walking a dark and confusing road indeed as he fought to break through what the sarcophagus had done and find his true self again. 

Finally, after a struggle that lasted many days, he managed to do just that and, while relieved, Teal’c wasn’t surprised. Once he’d learned that it would be possible, he hadn’t harbored any doubt that Daniel Jackson would do it. In his own way, the man was just as strong as O’Neill and himself- and in ways that were more important than physical prowess. And, when, after obtaining Dr. Fraiser’s release, Daniel Jackson came into the briefing room and pled his case to return to P3R-636, Teal’c knew he’d truly returned from that dark journey, truly returned to his self. _Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere_ , Teal’c recalled having come across as he’d read about some of the great leaders of O’Neill’s nation. And Daniel Jackson was the only man he knew that would put himself on the line to fight for that ideal by asking to aid the person who had subjected him to such treachery. 

They returned to Shyla’s world the next morning. Daniel Jackson insisted that he be allowed to try and convince the woman on his own and, after a brief argument over faith and need, O’Neill reluctantly relented. Teal’c smirked to himself. Not that O’Neill had much of a choice. Daniel Jackson would respect chain of command even though he was a civilian but Daniel Jackson also did what he believed was best regardless as to what O’Neill thought. “It will be alright,” he assured the other two as they watched their friend follow the guards to the palace.

“Yeah, I know,” O’Neill agreed slowly, reluctantly, a moment or two later and, after a prolonged glance at the retreating figure, he let his P-90 fall to rest. “I just don’t understand. I mean, I do. It’s Daniel and it’s what he does,” he corrected with a wry smirk. “But I don’t understand _why_.” 

“But that is why, O’Neill.” He met the man’s gaze as it shifted to him. “Do remember what you said the first time we thought Daniel Jackson had died? You said that he was our voice and our conscience.” Teal’c briefly looked away and to the palace into which the other had disappeared. “I know that you have disagreed with Daniel Jackson’s actions many times in the moment, but I am also certain that it was moments like this that led you to those words, yes?” He looked at O’Neill again. “Though I do think you put it most eloquently yourself.” Teal’c smiled a bit when he saw the question in his friend’s eyes. “It’s Daniel Jackson. It’s what he does.”


End file.
